


Sakura petals on a blank canvas

by pennywise86



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Friends to Lovers, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Painter Kuroo Tetsurou, Slow Burn, minor Bokuto/Kenma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-23
Updated: 2017-10-23
Packaged: 2019-01-22 01:57:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12470916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pennywise86/pseuds/pennywise86
Summary: Nothing good could come from answering an early morning call from Bokuto Koutarou, right?





	Sakura petals on a blank canvas

**Author's Note:**

> So...first time writing in a long time and first time writing for this pairing.  
> Be nice....please?

When Bokuto Koutarou called him in that cold February morning, Akaashi stared angrily at his phone screen and mentally argued with himself if he should answer him or not. Mostly because every time Bokuto calls him in the morning was a prelude for chaos. Also because Bokuto was always asking favors and Akaashi couldn't make himself deny anything for his former senpai (and actual best friend!!! – Bokuto would add!). By the time he finally convinced himself to press the big green button and Bokuto voice filled his room as if he was right by his side using an amp, Akaashi had already regretted all his previous choices. He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, gnarling at Bokuto so he could keep his damn voice down. Sighing, he carefully listened to Bokuto's complains on the other side of the line.

 

“Akaashi, please! I won't ask you to do anything ever again,” Bokuto pleaded.

 

“We both know that isn't true, Kou,” he yawned. Akaashi looked at the small owl-shaped clock on his nightstand. He had little less then four hours of sleep and he really needed to rest some more. “Besides, I'm really tired, Bo. I haven't had much sleep in ages.”

 

Akaashi knew he had to keep his foot down and tell Bokuto he couldn't help. He couldn't keep running from place to place and be always ready to rescue Bokuto whenever he had a problem. First because Bokuto actually needed to grow up and start dealing with his shit on his own and secondly because that weak spot he had for Bokuto had to go away sometime. But again, Akaashi was never exactly strong when the subject was Bokuto so it only took the latter a little bit more of pleading and finally Akaashi was agreeing to help him however he wanted. Maybe Bokuto had never realized the power he had in hands but he certainly were relieved. And thankful.

 

“It is really an easy job,” he guaranteed. “You only have to pose and let the guy draw you. Nothing weird. You don't need to get naked or anything like this. And the guy is really cool. It's easy.”

 

“Does he knows I'm filling in for you?” Akaashi asked. On the other side Bokuto hesitated. “Koutarou.”

 

“Yeah. Yeah. He is cool.”

 

“Koutarou...”

 

“It's cool, Akaashi. Don't worry,” Bokuto said again. “Besides, the money is pretty sweet.”

 

He should worry.

He should always worry. If anything had been carved in his brains in all those years he had been friends with Bokuto is that he should always worry. Especially when Bokuto would tell him not to worry. Those times would request him to worry four times more. Basically because Bokuto had that weird way of evaluating if the situation needed to be worried about which mostly consisted in him not worrying about anything and Akaashi developing gastritis to deal with his shit later. Akaashi could only hope he wouldn't get into too much trouble that time. He was a very sleep deprived Japanese Literature student with a thesis to finish, bills to pay and caffeine withdrawn. He was not to be played with. He walked down the street in a hurried pace, face buried in his scarf to prevent his nose from freezing, trying to find the place Bokuto has told him about which proved to be a difficult job. Maybe because he was so damn sleepy that his mind were giving up on him or it could also be because that damn entrance was so fucking hidden from plain sight.

He walked in feeling his body getting tense. “If I end up being kidnapped and murdered I'm so coming back to haunt that little shit!” he whispered to himself as he walk upstairs. 

The second floor – if he could call it second floor since the ground floor was nothing but the entrance and the stairs – was a big studio room with double headroom. The walls had giant windows that would provide the room with enough clarity all day long even in the middle of winter. The space was filled with weird sculptures and paintings. Some of them were completely visible and others were hidden by plastics. There were a couple of paintings that were visibly destroyed and a bunch of sculptures in the same state. He recognized a copy of the Venus de Milo and somehow he felt proud that he didn't forget everything about his art classes back in high school. He walked in carefully. 

 

“Koutaro, is that you?” a voice came out of nowhere, startling him and making him stumble upon a piece of ceramics, causing it to fall down ans shatter. The noise resonated in the room and inside Akaashi's bones, making shim shudder. “Damn it, Bo! Stop breaking my whole studio!” there was a noise of paper being tossed aside and heavy footsteps on his direction and Akaashi was frozen at his place. “You are not Bokuto.”

 

Akaashi turned his face up and finally got a view of the studio owner. He was a tall man with lean built and narrowed eyes. His black hair was being kept away from his face in some sort of a messy bun and he had green paint on his left cheek. His clothes were also stained with several different colors to a point that Akaashi considered that maybe he was using them to clean his brushes. The man was still staring at Akaashi waiting for an answer to why the hell was Akaashi inside his studio, breaking his belongings.

 

“Bokuto said you knew I was coming,” he rushed to say. “I mean, to fill in for him.”

 

The man was still confused but as he started to understand the situation, his face started to turn into and angry mess. When Akaashi thought he was about to explode he sighed, rubbed his face with both his hands and stared right at Akaashi's eyes. “I hope you are not friends with Bokuto because I'm gonna murder him,” he said, calmly. Akaashi couldn't blame him. He would often get himself thinking the same so he just shrugged.

 

“Nothing I can do about it.”

 

Much to his surprise, the man snorted. He bit his lower lip and a malicious grin started to show on his lips. “And you are?”

“Akaashi. Akaashi Keiji.”

 

“Nice to meet you, Akaashi Keiji. I'm Kuroo Tetsurou.”

**Author's Note:**

> So...im a little insecure about the way I despicted them. (and my grammar cuz english is not my firt language so)  
> Pls, speak your mind to me.


End file.
